


Bad Company

by PotterandPinkFloyd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, first time fic, go easy on me folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotterandPinkFloyd/pseuds/PotterandPinkFloyd
Summary: The one thing Dean isn't expecting while enjoying his newfound power is to be hunted down by a familiar face from the too-recent past.
Inspired by "Bad Company" by the band of the same name, and "Still of the Night" by Whitesnake.





	

_The wolf carefully stalks his prey, soft-footing his way through the underbrush of the nearly silent midnight forest. All other creatures have hushed their nocturnal commotion, sensing deep within that primal second brain that a killer is within their midst. Though a pack animal by nature, it isn’t uncommon to see this diviner of death; this harbinger of horror; this corrupt creation moving about in the still of the night._

“In the still of the night, I hear the wolf howl, honey, sniffin’ around your dooooor…”

_He pauses to close his eyes, exhale slowly only to inhale deeply, as if tasting the scent on the nearly nonexistent wind. He fears no man or beast in this deep woods, in his domain – no, his kingdom. The world as his kingdom, he has sworn he will have it, and looks on this night only to eliminate just another stupid brute who dares to stand in his path to power and glory._

“…In the still of the night, I feel my heart beatin’ heavy, tellin’ me I gotta have moo-oo-oo-oore…”

_Swift under the baneful wings of moonlight, he shoulders his way past the last few odd tree branches and into an unnatural clearing, where the vigilant gaze cast by the moon’s beams forms a natural spotlight. There, his prey waits, and is in fact waiting for him, as he had made no attempt at a stealthy approach. Locking eyes with the demon, he sings another few low bars of the verse._

“In the shadow of night I see the full moon rise, tellin’ me what’s in store…” He trails off with a menacing little smirk gracing his lips, a hint of sharp white teeth flashing dangerously, and his eyes black as pitch so dark they absorb the faint glow rather than refract it. He hums another few notes before his voice slowly fades off, leaving the two now sizing each other up in silence once more.

There is a slight hesitation bordering on uneasiness emanating from the figure thirty feet on the other edge of the glade, and it is like sweet, sweet poison to the veritable wolf’s – Dean’s – soul. Or lack thereof, he muses giddily. It was no wonder that Sam had never seemed in too big of a rush to reclaim his own soul – it was fun as _all hell_ without it.

The other demon, from her own pocket of obscuring gloom directly across the way from Dean, curls her lip in disgust. It doesn’t matter that she can hardly see him – it’s enough that she can hear his fucking voice, even to smell the thick blood that runs hot through his veins. Hunters fear demons, and though demons proclaim conceitedly not to be daunted by mere humans, dread the hunters in their own way.

“What do you want, _Winchester_?” the demon sniffs in disdain. Dean takes the last few steps out of the gloaming and yet it seems to follow behind him, trailing in reverence like the flowing train of an anointed king. Leisurely he shifts into that softly shining spotlight, allowing the unburnished glow to reveal the endless depths of those two shining pools of ebony; his eyes. She takes an abrupt, jarred step backwards, shocked into silence – such a rarity for these overly confident creatures. Her eyes flit around nervously, still shining ominously in that strangely strong moonlight, darting to and fro like a pair of bottled fireflies. She is searching for the inevitable hand-prepared devil’s trap.

Dean chuckles darkly. She won’t find what she’s searching for. He isn’t here to kill this demon, much as he might yet despise the very nature of their existence in spite of having become one himself. His test was only to see how easy it would be, how naturally he could call one of them to him. Before he might have needed to make an offering but now…oh, but now, all he had was to _will_ one into his presence. He feels the newfound power thunder around inside him, pumping along with each beat of his heart. And is it ever _delicious_.

So it is understandably infuriating for him when, with a puff of black smoke, the demon vanishes. He clenches his hands tightly, nails digging sharp into the soft flesh of his hands, until he can feel the viscous heat of blood working its way onto his fingertips and between his nails. He cusses loudly, taking a step forward as if to follow wherever it is she’s gone to. Before he can decide what to do next, a loud snapping sound breaks the still silence from somewhere behind him. Dean whirls around to face… the darkness of the trees. It is soundless, so deathly quiet and stagnant in these woods, and yet he knows someone is there. Watching him. He feels a tightening in his stomach as though a too-hot hand has grabbed hold of it. His hackles rising and a low growl building deep in his chest, Dean turns a quick, tight circle to try to detect the noisemaker – and feels a strange sort of disquiet that he isn’t familiar with in this new form.

_And so the hunter becomes the hunted._

The man standing in the shadows of those trees, Dean’s unearthly rival, moves purposefully out of the gloom. He doesn’t know what he expects; maybe for Dean to look surprised, or angry, or even sad – to show any kind of emotion at all, in fact. As it is, the demon appraises him with a cool glance, eyes raking up and down his body. He makes note of the fact that the newcomer appears not to hold a weapon.

Dean, for his part, expects the man to look surprised, or angry, or even sad, or perhaps a mirror image of his own stoic face. Instead, he looks…scared. Dean can’t recall the last time he saw the man look afraid and it _almost_ catches him off guard. To hide this brief insecurity, he takes three long strides forward and closes the distance between them until there is hardly a foot of space in between the two men; one hellish, one angelic.

“Sam send you after me? I figured you guys would have given up the ghost by now,” Dean muses quietly, his ebony eyes piercing into the angel’s bright blue pools before allowing them to return to their familiar intense green.

The angel, Castiel, takes another few steps towards the demon. “Dean, please. Come back to the bunker with me. Sam and I can find a way to help you; we can fix this together,” he pleads.

Dean’s lip curls into an amused snarl. “Can’t you two get it through your thick skulls that maybe – just _maybe_ – I don’t want to be helped? You of all people should be able to understand how disgusting it is to feel weak, and how absolutely incredible it feels to gain power. Face it, Cas, you couldn’t have lived without your grace; you were too weak, too pathetic, too human. Don’t you understand after being so pathetically human all my life, how it is to have this power?” Dean pauses as Cas watches on helplessly. “Of course you do,” he continues. “You and I both know you’d be lying if you said you don’t. Now get lost, Cas. I have more important things to deal with. And tell Sam to keep his nose out of my business, too. You two have gotten in my way enough already.”

Dean turns to go but feels a hand grasp his left shoulder tightly. “Dean, please, this isn’t you-”

Dean whips around to face him with a snarl, his eyes rapidly melting into inky blackness once more. “How the fuck would you know? I’m more me than I’ve ever felt, Cas! With no thanks to you or my brother. This is the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me and I won’t let either of you take it away from me.”

At last, Dean sees that sweet, vulnerable emotion that has been absent from Castiel’s face up until this moment – fear. He licks his lower lip, staring into the eyes of the man across from him, knowing Cas’ baby blues are slowly drowning into the pitch of Dean’s eyes. Without thinking he leans forward and down, closer to the shorter man, until only a whisper of space separates them. “What’s the matter, angel?” Dean whispers, his voice suddenly husky, rough, and much deeper. “Scared of the dark?”

Cas flinches, and Dean uses the moment to shoulder the seraph down onto the hard, cold ground before turning around once more. He fully anticipates Castiel to have learned his lesson this time and to stay down, and his confidence shows in his swagger as he walks away – so he is taken completely off guard when Cas lunges at him, knocking him back into the thickly growing trees.

Curiously enough for Dean, he finds himself where Cas had been only heartbeats before, with an eyeful of stars and the chill of the slightly damp earth beneath him creeping slowly into his skin. His eyes meet the angel’s, and he becomes suddenly consciously aware of the weight of Castiel’s knees pinning his thighs down, his hands tightly squeezing onto his shoulders, the heat of his softly panting breaths brushing against Dean’s neck. “Dean, I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he says quietly, but with a force Dean has only rarely heard directed at him.

“Maybe you don’t want to hurt me,” the demon starts with a smirk playing on his lips, “But I know I’d enjoy hurting you,” he growls, before using all of his weight to shift upwards high enough to sink his teeth into Cas’ shoulder, which his trench coat has slipped off of in the midst of their struggle. He bites down until he can taste delectably hot blood soaking the angel’s otherwise pristine white shirt, and a little shiver slips its way up and down his spine when he hears the smaller man cry out in pain.

“Dean, enough!” he shouts, shifting his lower body until his knees dig roughly into Dean’s hipbones. He moves his mouth from Cas’ shoulder reluctantly, licking the blood from his lips and watching with a mild sense of satisfaction as it continues to ooze from the perfectly spaced teeth marks into blossoms of beautiful color on the shirt. Before he can react any further, Cas has shot one hand out to tightly grip Dean’s neck and the other has wound itself into Dean’s hair. Roughly he yanks Dean’s head back, exposing his neck.

“Dean, please, listen to me. You can fight this. Sam and I – we believe in you.” Oh, this is just too delicious; the angel is begging _him_ , a demon! Dean lets out a strained laugh, struggling to draw breath against the tight compression of Cas’ hand around his throat. He opens his mouth to say something – more cruel banter, a sly cutthroat remark perhaps, Dean isn’t exactly sure because he never gets the chance to say it – and instead is able to pinpoint the exact moment when something deep within Castiel snaps.

Suddenly Dean finds his lips, still spotted here and there with the holy being’s blood, fitted tightly to the mouth of that same being. The hand on the demon’s throat shifts to join its twin twisted in Dean’s locks, where they tug at the hair and yet simultaneously pull Dean’s body closer to their owner’s, until they are flush against each other and Dean cannot feel the chill of the forest floor, only the intense heat radiating from Castiel’s body. He can feel the angel’s heart pumping away headily inside his own chest. Deliriously, thoughtlessly, he moves to twine his arms around Cas’ midsection, holding himself and the man above him – on him – just slightly off the dirt. A sharp tooth grazes Cas’ lower lip when he moves to deepen the kiss, and this time rather than letting out a yelp of pain, Cas releases a moan of pleasure against the demon’s lips.

He loosens his death grip on Dean’s hair, moving one hand to trail the smooth pad of his thumb gently along the taller man’s jawline. He thinks he whimpers Dean’s name, or maybe a short prayer, but the thought instantly evaporates as Dean pulls his mouth back from Cas’ to look into his eyes. Cas sees, to his immense delight, that his righteous man’s eyes have returned to their normal, wonderful green, and a feeling of sweet relief leaves his body trembling ever so slightly as he watches a half smile tug playfully at the corner of Dean’s – _his_ Dean’s, he thinks jubilantly – mouth. He wants to cry out those beautiful, triumphant words once again: Dean Winchester has been saved! and is already anticipating the drive back to the bunker; to _home_ , when like some horrible nightmare Dean’s eyes flicker black.

Before Castiel can even register the appalling sinking of his heart, he hears Dean laugh wickedly as he tosses the angel underneath him, kissing him once more with a viciousness and absolute hunger that Cas just knows is a product of Hell. And yet, the angel surrenders himself to this creature of the night, this abhorrent spawn of the ninth circle, this…perfect once-human.

For his part, it flashes through Dean’s mind not quite briefly how easily he could take this weak angel right here, right now, on the dark and dirty forest floor, but decides against it, for how much more satisfying would it be to turn this being of Heaven against the very light from whence he came? Almost tenderly he parts his lips from Castiel’s and helps the quivering and unsteady little angel to his feet. “Come with me, Cas,” he whispers, his voice rough and low from the heat just exchanged.

And Cas, too willingly, unable to hear the cries of anguish and remorse from his heavenly brothers and sisters, takes the warm, outstretched hand of his demon and follows him into the eternal dark.

The clearing is quiet and undisturbed now, but for the softly carrying sound of Dean’s singing.

“Rebel souls, deserters we’ve been called, chose a gun and threw away the sun…And that’s why they call me bad company, I can’t deny…Bad, bad company, ‘til the day I die…”

**Author's Note:**

> Not only is this my first time writing (and publishing) a fic for this fandom and ship, but it is also my first time publishing a fic, period. This took me way longer to write out (like a month or more, can't remember) but I promise I poured my soul into this. Hope you enjoyed.


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